Red is a Primary Color
by zRedgrave
Summary: The Virtuoso's routine would never be the same anymore after a rather artistic figure's appearance on the canvas, and perhaps a fresh stroke is just what he needed.
1. Curtain Call

_Finally._

Standing right in front of him, there it was. Almost a year had been spent following cold leads and glimpses of art, tracking and chasing what seemed like a ghost's footsteps. Slowly but surely he had closed in, and now it was finally the time.

 _ _One.__

His fingers caught the cold of the magic-imbued metal. The full white moon held the promise of a deadly night, and he couldn't have wished for a more perfect stage. Calmly, as to not make his presence known, he took aim. What his eyes registered, was no ordinary creature, a figure standing ever so beautifully before him. Jhin took a deep breath.

 _ _Two.__

Ah, on the contrary. Such presence could only be nobly held by an artist, much like himself. Someone with tales and rumors that only the sickest of minds could fathom, for their sins were way past those of an ordinary soul.

 _ _Three.__

Enveloped by the moonlight, serene and pale, a stark contrast to his shadowy figure hidden behind the thick of the trees; their hearts, one singing a steady song while the other waltzed to the excitement. What a wonderful display of blood and colors this would be.

 _ _Just a little higher.__

The stage was set. With surgical precision he targeted the barely heaving chest, now only moments away from its almost tragic - but indubitably dramatic - demise.

 _ _Four.__

And this, would be her curtain call.

* * *

 **A.N.: Welcome everyone! I'm here just for a little announcement. Given that my final exams are nearing, I decided to rewrite the released chapters and make a few changes (I know, it's definitely more helpful than studying). Originally, I wanted them to be short and objective - like bullets being fired, but this approach wasn't nearly close to being what I wanted to be.  
Even though I use a different style when writing in English, the fancy demon inside me won the battle so I'll be keeping these chapters short (how they were meant to be from the beginning) while altering their content.  
** **Oh well, I'll be back to posting new ones after I finish my hellish exams. Thank you for reading this story, I was absolutely sure I had been writing to ghosts, haha!**


	2. Opera of Death

A murder scene.

That would be the immediate conclusion of any mind that laid eyes upon the grotesque scenario. Of course neither would that be his first impression nor would he possess the antonym of a perspicacious and cunning judgement. As if on cue, his sense of smell required only a light and slightly cold breeze to, with expertise, catch the now trademark fragrance of lotus mixed with a heavier scent. His nostrils dilated at the pleasant sultry quality it beared.

That, in addition with the thin and perfect line of viscous, dark red liquid on the wall was sufficient to comprehend what would remain in the shadows by any spectator. It was a display of art, of meticulously schemed cruelty.

 _She_ had tried to get his attention. This was no mere murder more than it was a message, and he would have to give her the deserved merit for it – even if such a task proved to be extremely annoying.

However she had managed to concoct this faultless scent and further impregnate the stage, which held an unearthly beauty, was clearly to be kept a secret thrown in the winds.

Initially, Jhin felt offended that _his_ flower was picked by somebody else, _particularly_ by her. It wouldn't take long to his wandering thoughts and curses to focus back on his surroundings.

"What on heavens cast this most devilish doing upon this land?!"

 _Foolish ignorants!_

People started to come closer and gather around, which was a sign that it was time to part. The distinct murmurs of disgusted citizens was becoming louder, and not in the state of mind to tolerate their preposterous nonsense, he looked for a last time at the canvas dedicated to him, hoping to carve it in his memory.

In a hurry and again lost in his own thoughts, the Virtuoso made his way through the now small crowd and went back towards the direction of the inn he was currently hosted.

 _Or not anymore._

An audible sigh could be heard through his slightly parted lips as his mind fought back the approaching headache. Just another one to the to the rapidly increasing count.


	3. A Duet

If there was a task he was admittedly excellent at, it would have to be disguising. Even among his distinctively extensive hall of abilities, impersonating the most varied personas was his prowess.

Nevertheless, lately it had been proving to be an exhaustive and rather irritating task, where more often than not thoughts about forsaking this quest permeated his mind. However, every hesitation would trickle into dark oblivion faced the rapture in producing the ultimate poetry.

The woman had, indeed, proved to deliver an amusing spectacle. Therefore, it was only natural that Jhin, being the courteous individual he was, had every intent of retribution in the most sumptuous of fashions. As a matter of fact, a mere display of dexterity was beyond appalling; an antire orchestra would be requested, accompanied by the finest arrangements and an exquisite stage.

"Already leaving, good sir?" Oh, yes. Although human contact was inevitable and on many occasions vital, engaging in any form of activity was utterly displeasing.

"I'm afraid yes. I have urgent business elsewhere." Not entirely a lie, for indeed urgent matters were at hand and demanded his whole attention. Besides, preparations were essencial - nothing less then perfection would be admissible.

"Is that so? It was a pleasure having you around, mister." The strident timber of her voice was almost as repulsive as staying there, and he was more than glad in escaping said torment. "Would you need any help with your belongings? They do appear to be quite heavy."

"Unnecessary, thank you. I will deal with them myself." Without a shadow of doubt, he was good. To the hostess, he appeared to be just an old merchant busy with his business, and that had him internally snickering in amusement.

Putting on a smile, or an act for the matter was already an automatic and fluid chore, both his muscles and brain being wearily accustomed to it.

With those being his parting words, a new destination entered now in sight: the backstage, place where the Golden Demon had come to obtain his renown.

* * *

 **I really like alliterations *shrugs***


	4. Thorn's Embrace

**Hello there! I'd like to thank crazyLantern for helping me with these chapters, so make sure to check out her profile ;) Also, if you've managed to read this far, you rock! Thank you for reading the crap I'm posting :P And now, to the rewritten fourth chapter!  
**

* * *

Green was by far the most prominent color in the vast, exotic diversity of the forest, from smallest of insects to the largest plants. Bushes, thorns and vine-like plants posed a difficulty to wanderers, known notoriously to scratch the bare skin occasionally.

The air was slick with the suffocation of despair, permeating even the numbest of senses. At some point, the white and blue sky vanished, replaced by branches of moss and deep brown.

Telling the time became near-impossible. The humid air made it difficult to breathe and caused clothes to cling to the skin. Only instinct was to be trusted on from this point, and it told twilight was nearing.

It didn't take a keen eye to see that this place was getting dangerous.

 _I have to hurry._

Unbeknownst to most, there was more life there than the eyes could see - they were watching, assessing.

* * *

Even the human eye could see this was not a normal forest. Not anymore. It had been taken a long time ago by a very unearthly and aware creature. All the residents of Kumungu knew better than to trespass upon her lair.

The vines exuded an unsettling vibe, holding rumors of a visitor.

There, in the garden, the Rise of Thorns could not hold back an ominous smile. It appeared the intruder had made it through the forest. Somehow.

"Take careful steps..." With a dark glint in her eyes, her smile broke into a sinister laugh.

* * *

A midnight blue sky was now in sight, lit by a full moon.

 _Just a little more..._

The trees were scarce now, the thorns giving way to a beaten path. Oddly enough, it appeared that magic was stronger at the outskirts of Kumungu.

 _This must be it._

In stark contrast to the dense shroud of green, the jungle had now started to give way to a barren wasteland.

Leaving the wildlife behind, the soil had taken on a strange dark color, almost as if it had been burned. From time to time, it was possible to spot little streams of what seemed like pure magma. Tracing them farther ahead, they led to what appeared to be flame-spitters.

 _Seriously?_

Regardless, there was no turning back now anymore.

"This forest is quite surprising, isn't it?"

Taking a deep breath and steeling the resolve, the lone figure among the ocean of magma now made way towards its queen's lair.


	5. Act IV

The light rustling of the leaves carried by the slightly chilling breeze were enough to awake a sense of awareness within her.

Someone was there.

"Zyra."

Making no sound, the garden's warden came forth from the maze's end that led to an opening, holding grace in each and every step, oozing with her usual confidence. A small smile played in her lips.

"You've come again."

A long pause followed.

"My vines more often than not tell me about a solitary visitor. Apparently, she comes to behold our beauty."

"And they are right." Her voice cracked a little bit from the disuse. No time was wasted, all eyes were appreciating what was lying ahead. Sighing, she concentrated again on the center of the small pond. Surrounded by breath-taking nature and embellishments chosen by none other than the Rise of Thorns herself, there stood a single and special flower at display. "Never in my life have I seen such beauty. The rumors were true, afterall." Taking a glance at Zyra, it was clear she held great abilities - and even greater secrets. Perhaps the origin of the one flower that possessed the grace of a lotus and the intensity of a rose would forever be one of those.

The moonlight was covering both of them and adorning any life there contained, creating an almost surreal and ethereal air. This could be called an Eden.

"You know you cannot run forever, Vahrya."

Those words felt as if cold water had been poured in her head, which drove her focus to another place. At the moment, running felt like the only option she had. To run from her excruciating thoughts, to run from the swirling of intensity inside her chest that surfaced at the most undesired of times. To run from _him._ Never she could have imagined that attracting the Virtuoso's attention would set her demons on fire the way it did, nor the burning sensation he left behind every time they met.

So much went wrong. For such a calculating and precise person, this was a preposterous situation that defied her every being, though her pride would never let her surrender. _Neither would he._

"He is approaching with large steps, and this time there will be no hiding." It came like a premonition, an almost somber remark. The truth was that it had more meaning than she wanted it to, and that left a bitter taste in her mouth.

What she could never admit was that she loved anything bitter.

With one last purposeful look, Vahrya stood up and faced her friend. "I appreciate the warning." Where her eyes held hidden apprehension and doubt, she was faced with curiosity in return. "I believe I should now take my leave."

"As you wish." It gave a strange sensation to have someone worrying for her, especially Zyra. With the passing of the time, the two became acquainted and actually started enjoying their occasional rendezvous. Sometimes, they would idly chat or simply enjoy the view, in contrast to others such as the one they just shared.

Walking up to the garden's way out was a maze, beautifully created from what seemed like bushes that were twice as tall as her and that held many hidden paths and deadways: some that could lead to a death. By now Vahrya had the main route memorized in her brain and legs, the last fully doing the task of finding herself away from there, for the first was now too occupied with thoughts of her upcoming challenge: facing Jhin.


End file.
